


Boys of the Summer

by dollylux



Category: Football RPF
Genre: Cold Weather, Cuddling & Snuggling, Infidelity, M/M, Sweet, adoration
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-17
Updated: 2014-06-17
Packaged: 2018-02-05 00:12:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,045
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1798441
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dollylux/pseuds/dollylux
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>South Africa, middle of winter, Saturday training session. (27-06-09)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Boys of the Summer

Sergio can only smile at him from afar for so long.

His smile stays but he doesn't and he crosses the stiff green grass to get closer to Fernando who is standing perfectly still, bundled up in his practice jacket and his hat, sleeves completely hiding his hands, his cheeks red from cold and not sun. Sergio steps up close to him and he curls his head to drag Fernando's eyes up to his own face. He reaches over and tugs flirtatiously on his jacket sleeve.

"What's wrong?"

Fernando blinks at him like Sergio has asked him why he's breathing.

"It's. Cold."

"You live in England. You should be used to useless weather."

Fernando smirks and rolls his eyes. Says the gypsy.

"This is summer. It's supposed to be hot. Or at _least_ warm. I'm supposed to be complaining about how I can't breathe and why don't we have a pool on the pitch and Sergio can we please go climb in a cold shower. Not..." He exhales fast and hard and he's on the verge of pouting. "I can't feel my fingers and how it annoys me to wear shorts with long sleeves and how... just..."

"You want Spanish summers."

Fernando looks up into Sergio's eyes and he can swear that he sees those exact summers in them, can see the sun and the heat and the explosion of color at sunset. His chest tightens suddenly and he moves closer to Sergio, almost convinced that he can feel warmth coming from him. Sergio pushes his hands up into the holes of Fernando's sleeves and finds his cold, thin fingers and he tangles them up with his own and rubs them gently. His face is suddenly closer to Fernando's and now he knows for certain he can feel heat coming from Sergio's body and he marvels at it silently, at how Sergio seems to keep summer with him no matter what, no matter how cold or snowy or bitter or grey. Even bundled up, lips chapped from stinging wind, he just pushes through it, almost impervious, just biding his time until he can get back to the sun to which he belongs. Fernando's cheeks flush and he feels the warmth like a tiny flame starting small in his belly, hints of it licking at his cheeks, his hands. Sergio's eyes are down to stare at Fernando's mouth and Fernando can already tell how bedroom Sergio's voice is going to sound before he even speaks.

"You want the days when we used to go down to Marbella, and you'd listen to me talk about Andalucía the whole way down and you'd act annoyed but I could feel your pulse racing in your hand on my chest. You want the sun so hot you don't know how you'll survive the day but we'd stay out in it anyway, we'd put on practically nothing and we'd have the beach to ourselves, our own private part of the beach, do you remember?"

Fernando's chest is rising and falling steadily and he's staring at Sergio's mouth now too, watching him speak, lulled and mesmerized. Their fingers are entwined in the secret of Fernando's jacket, clutching, keeping.

"Yes."

"And we'd..." Sergio licks his lips and Fernando does the same as a reaction. "We'd walk from one end to the other real early in the morning sometimes, wouldn't we? After being up all night and we were sore and every muscle in your body was loose and god you felt so good, Nando. You were like a broken doll and you'd hold my hand and follow me anywhere. And we'd leave the house when we'd see the light coming up out of the blue sky and we'd head toward it, and by the time we got to the other end of the beach, the sun'd start to rise and god. You... you were meant for sunrise. Just the way the colors and the light treat you, the color it would make your eyes and the mood it would put you in. You felt wise and young and ready and sleepy and quiet. Didn't you?"

Fernando nods, not embarrassed so much as shy, unwrapped by Sergio and his words and he feels bare and the unrelenting need to hide against him. Sergio's hands push up over Fernando's wrists and over his forearms and he rubs and rubs the cold out of his skin.

"Because of you."

"And we'd eat breakfast when we got back. Fresh fruit just so I could watch your mouth eat it and taste it on your chin and your fingers and warm bread that burned the tips of your fingers but melted on your tongue and we'd fill up on it and crawl back up the stairs practically. And you'd let me lay you out on our bed and you let me take you again, just opened up for me and gave yourself to me and you'd do it again when we woke up, wouldn't you? Then you'd want to shower and I wouldn't let you, we'd talk about it every morning because, Nando, that's my favorite thing in the world. The smell of sex and the sea on your skin and in your hair. It's... it's the tiny secret of our bed and the whole entire ocean, both of them, on your skin, on those freckles. You got at least a hundred more freckles every day but I'd lose count every night."

Fernando grins and pushes his face into Sergio's neck to hide there awhile and Sergio's fingers tickle at the insides of Fernando's elbows, making him squirm and push in even closer and the world went on around them, aware and unaware.

"We'd go out into the bright bright sun and I'd coat you in sunblock because yeah, you tan but you burn easy, too. You'd tease me for only getting dark and you'd touch me like you love it, love my skin, how it only gets golden."

"I do." Fernando's voice is a rush of hot breath across his chilled throat and Sergio swallows, his eyes falling closed, only able to picture their beach even more clearly now.

"We'd end up teasing each other about something or other and I'd chase you across the beach and I can remember the smell of the sand under your feet, I can see how your hair would whip around when you ran and the sound of your laugh and the salt of the ocean when I would chase you to the shore and you let me hold your hand and we'd slow down and walk into the water step by step by step. And your fingers would skim over the top of the waves and dip into the water like you were reverent of the sea, like you belonged to it once and you could feel its strength whenever you came back to it. And we'd swim and flirt and you'd wrap those legs around me and I felt so strong the way you'd let me hold you, the way you'd tuck into me and I could spread my hands out over any part of you I wanted because it was all hidden under the water. And you'd let me kiss you right there, just like that, in public and whenever I feel the wind, I think of that, Nando. I think about kissing you out in the open, under the sun and in the breeze and I feel so proud."

They fall quiet for a moment while Fernando licks kisses into Sergio's neck, the wet, secret sound the only one between them until Sergio can find his voice, can breathe normally enough to keep talking.

"We'd swim until we felt like we couldn't move anymore and we'd fall onto the shore and sleep right there, waves pushing up over our feet and legs and your soft mouth where it is right now, god, yes. Sometimes we'd have sex again and I don't know if you felt how fast my heart would race when you'd climb on, when you'd sink down and when you'd ride and curl and moan and rock and you'd come and it'd get washed away immediately and I'd stay in you and we'd sleep and not be afraid. We'd wake up and go back to the house and get dressed and tried to look like presentable people so we could make dinner, or I'd make dinner and you'd taste it all. And after we ate, we'd go outside and sit in the sand and the sun would set and... and I lied, Nando. Because you never look more beautiful than you do during sunset, when you're content and full and alive for the night and I can almost hear your heart beat because it's so strong. And the way your skin looks under purples and pinks and oranges and there is not an artist in the world that could capture it. Cameras don't pick it all up, don't do it justice. And your eyes are pure sand and endless and your hair is everywhere and beach blonde and every time you'd try to fix it I'd just hold your hand to stop you.

I'd never watch the sun set. I'd always watch it in your eyes. It looks so much more beautiful there. And you'd turn to me when the slice of orange melted down into the water and the sky looked fucking alive and breathing and the colors are unreal, they look edible and intangible and they'd cling to your skin and your hair and your eyelashes and your eyes and your smile and you'd finally look over at me and I knew you could see the same things about me and you'd kiss me and it tasted like the sunset, it tasted like forever, Nando and I never wanted to stop, I never wanted it to end, I never wanted night to completely come because you felt like you were attached to my skin then. But the moon would come and you'd tell me how you thought about me when you saw the moon and I'd laugh and you would get a little self-conscious and explain it to me and that's why I teased you. I loved to hear you talk about it. You'd tell me that you were the sun, the glory hunter because that's what strikers are and I'd deny it but you'd keep going. And you'd say 'okay, then I'm the sun because I'm light and you're dark'. Because of just our features and the way we were. Because you said I made you feel safe like the moon does, because it's comforting. That I make you feel safe enough so that you could feel like the sun, so that you could be care-free and feel like it was okay to act young sometimes, to laugh and smile and not always be worrying. And I would tell you that I'm only the moon because of you. I'm soothing because you make me calm, because you make me feel like the most powerful thing in the world because of how much you love me. Do you remember?"

Fernando nods even more, his body heavy with emotion and he lifted his arms, Sergio's slipping out of his jacket so that he could wrap his arms around Sergio's neck and Sergio's arms slip around Fernando's waist and they pull at each other, digging in close close and their cheeks are soft with hard bone as they push together. Sergio kisses Fernando's jaw, doing it slowly, deliberately to calm him again, to keep this from turning into painful nostalgia, into regret. Fernando's eyes are closed, his eyebrows knitted together and he's warm now, very warm.

"I remember."

"Come back with me? Just for a few days? We leave here in two days, Nando. We can hide awhile."

"Yes. Yes, Sergio. Please."

"Tell her you're going to visit friends. We still have that house whenever we want it. Nothing is lost to us, Nando. We can still have everything. Summer is still ours."

Fernando presses his covered forehead against Sergio's and their eyes finally meet and they can practically already smell the salt in the air, feel the sun turning their bones to embers.

"Ours."


End file.
